|My ticket to modernity|
Look, the flip phone was becoming embarrassing. And, unlike Larry, I do not labor under the delusion that printing directions from MapQuest is the latest thing on the technological front. The day when some carpool plans changed abruptly and, miles from home and anything resembling a computer, I was expected to know how to drive to a city in a bordering state? That was the last straw.
So, since this watershed purchase, life has been good: the girls have been fascinated by my cheap-o LG model, I can take a picture whenever I like, and I have not once gone over the 1GB of data allotted me per month by Verizon. And now that he is leaving for college, we offered to buy David an inexpensive smartphone, with him being responsible for the monthly expense of actually being able to use it. So David did some research and figured out the best (read, cheapest) phone/plan and off we went to Best Buy to procure for his 18-year-old self what all the other kids in our town receive by the age of 16, at the latest.
On a related note, David just got his driver's permit the other day. So, yeah, we're about 2 years behind on everything.
Where was I? Oh, yes, David's new phone. Later that day, Susie noticed him using the phone. "Did you get a smartphone like Mommy's?" she asked, surprised.
"Yes," I told her. "He's paying for the service, though. He needs one like that at college."
"So now he has a phone JUST LIKE yours?" she repeated.
"Yes, he does, sweetie," I said.
"Well!" she said, "We're starting to look like a real FAMILY here!"
So there you have it, folks: forget the regular meals eaten together, or the camping vacations, or the shared holiday traditions. If what you want is to engender a sense of family, that feeling of belonging and clan identity, all you need to do - according to my 10-year-old - is buy everyone his very own smartphone.
Who knew it could be so simple?